"What did you mean by being 'on the line?'" asked Ralph, addressing the captain.
"The zero line, or the point where all calculations east and west are reckoned from, runs north and south through Greenwich, in England, a place a little east of London. We are about fifteen miles east of that line," replied the captain, "and one hundred and eighty miles south of London."
But all were now interested in the further developments which might be expected. The wireless was constantly receiving messages, and occasionally the commander received messages which were, evidently, interesting reading, judging from the comments made. Most of the information related to the activities of the undersea boats, and only in that region where they were now approaching.
The vessel was proceeding slowly, when suddenly the officer in the crow's nest sent down a signal that vitalized the gunners. The guns swung around instantly. Away off to starboard was the faintest ripple, for the water was comparatively smooth.
Two shots rang out almost simultaneously from the fore and aft guns. It was a thrilling sight to see the streaks of glistening water, which the two shells brought up to be reflected by the brilliant sun. A shout from the gunner at the bow caused a chorus of answering shouts.
"Did they hit it?" asked Alfred.
"Well, there is one less periscope, if I know anything," replied the navigating officer.
Ralph had descended the stairs leading down from the bridge, and quickly made his way to the bow.
"I want to congratulate you on that shot," he said, as he approached.
The gunner, with glowing face, turned, and, seeing Ralph, replied: "Thank you, lad! Coming from you it's a compliment. Lor', but we like to spot 'em."